Becoming Real
by sandradee30
Summary: How many of you want to jump back to the beginning of Season Three and fix it? Well, Page Spencer didn’t mean to, but saying the wrong thing can get a fanfic writer into trouble. Rated M for sexual content so beware!
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE:** Becoming Real

**SUMMARY:** How many of you want to jump back to the beginning of Season Three and fix it? Well, Page Spencer didn't mean to, but saying the wrong thing can get a fanfic writer into trouble.

**A/N:** This of course started out as an, 'I want to be part of the show' story, but my freaky brain just wouldn't stop writing. So I added an actual story to that plotline and then out of nowhere the sex just appeared. Really, it wasn't planned at all. Really! With that said the story is rated M for obvious reasons.

**WARNING:** Graphic sex (or as graphic as I can get) and some language.

**DISCLAIMER:** Not mine, unfortunately. As you can see I would let them have more fun.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Please read at the end. I'd hate to give too much away. Oh and I divided it into two chapter but technically it's a one shot.

"_Real isn't how you are made._

_It's a thing that happens to you…_

_It doesn't happen all at once._

_You become._

…_once you are Real you can't become unreal again._

_It lasts forever."_

_The Velveteen Rabbit_

By

_Margery Williams_

**Becoming Real**

"Hey, you ok?"

The voice startled her. Who the hell was in her house? Opening her eyes, Page was surprised to find stars above her. Well, that wasn't good. Her head pounded and briefly she thought she'd gotten drunk. She wouldn't put it past Nick or Lauren to leave her sorry ass in the park again. Then she saw the face that went with the voice.

"Holy crap," she muttered, pushing up and backing away.

"Well, that's a new one," Dean said frowning at her.

"Maybe you scared her," Sam said sauntering up next to him, lowering the gun that was in his brother's hand.

"Y-you… you…" she stammered looking from one to the other. Her brain had completely stopped working. She couldn't make her mouth work.

"Are you ok?" Sam asked smiling at her. If only he knew that really wasn't helping.

"Ok? Am I ok?" Three words in a row, now that was a start.

"Did you hit your head?" Dean asked brow furrowed.

Groaning, she put her hands over her face. She had to be dreaming, because things like this just didn't happen to her. Sam and Dean Winchester looking at her like that? Sam and Dean Winchester looking at her at all? Closing her eyes tightly she willed herself to wake up.

"Dude, I think she fainted," Dean said. She jumped when a hand touched her arm.

"No, don't think so," Sam answered.

She cracked her eyes back open, and they were still there. Sighing she moved to stand.

"Hold up," Dean said raising the gun.

"Ok, not moving," she said eyeing the gun. Typical Dean, trust no one.

Sam stepped between Page and his brother, frowning at the gun. "What are you doing?"

"We don't know who she is. She could be a demon for all we know," Dean said, the gun not wavering at all.

"Christo," Page said, making both turn and look at her surprised. "What?"

"How did…" Sirens echoing through the trees interrupted Dean. Glaring at his brother he pulled Page to her feet and abruptly let her go. Page groaned as the world tilted under her, and she leaned heavily against the closest body.

"Whoa," Sam said, his hands steadying her. She sighed the scent of him rolling over her, burnt gunpowder and earthy soap. He smelled real. He certainly felt real, the tight muscles against her cheek and the strong arms wrapped around her.

"We can't stay here," Dean said.

"I know. Bring her with?"

"Whatever, but we have to go."

Before Page could protest she was lifted up, and found herself held tighter against said muscled chest, one strong arm now under her legs. The movement made her dizzy, and she lost track of time.

The next instant she was in the backseat of a car, the Impala to be exact. Groaning she tried to roll over only to discover her hands cuffed in front of her.

"You awake?" Sam asked.

She eyed him frowning. "I'm not sure."

"Ok, cryptic girl is starting to freak me out," Dean said from the drivers seat.

"Dean," Sam groaned.

Dean gave a frustrated sigh. "Fine, we'll stop at the next motel."

Page wasn't feeling any better when they stopped. Her attempt to get out of the car had her back in Sam's arms and being carried into the motel room.

She sat on the edge of the bed, trying desperately not to throw up, and wondered how this had happened. She wasn't supposed to be there, that was apparent even to her, and things like this didn't happen, so she had to be dreaming. Thinking about it made the pounding in her head worse, which was wrong. You don't feel pain in dreams. This made her a little nervous, not to mention the two guys, deep in quiet discussion, on the other side of the room.

Dean was angry. That was obvious by the waving of his hands and the darting looks he kept sneaking her way. Sam was, well she wasn't really sure. He too kept sneaking glances, but he seemed more curious than anything else.

Sighing, she brought her hands to her forehead, hissing slightly has the cuffs chaffed her wrists. This was going to be a long night.

"Do you have a name?" Dean asked, making her jump. So lost in her own thoughts she hadn't realized they had stopped talking, and Dean now stood a few feet from her, arms crossed, still not happy.

"Page."

"Well, Page, what were you doing out there?" he asked.

"Out where?"

"Sam, I'm gonna…" Dean said turning away from her.

"The woods where we found you. There's nothing out there, not really," Sam interceded.

"Then what were you doing out there?" she asked.

They shared a look before not answering her.

She shook her head. "Let me guess, something nasty hurting hikers, hunters, people who shouldn't be in the woods. Am I close?"

"How did…" Sam started before Dean smacked his arm.

"Dumb ass," Dean mumbled.

"Come on, Dean. Give him a break."

"How do you know my name?" Dean asked, his hand going into the pocket of his coat and pulling out a flask. Holy water, great he still thought she was a demon.

"You wouldn't believe me," she said shaking her head. "I don't believe me."

"Try us. You might be surprised," Sam said.

"Why not. This is a dream anyway. A very strange dream, but…" she sighed.

"I don't know how to break this to you, Sweetheart, but you're awake," Dean said reaching over, splashed a little holy water on her and non-too-gently pinched her.

"Owe," she said glaring at him. "Was that necessary?"

He gave her that, I'm charming but I can be lethal, smile, which only made her angrier.

"God help anyone who actually wants your help," Page mumbled.

"Excuse me," Dean said, standing up straighter and reaching to the small of his back, pulling his gun.

"Great," she said shaking her head. "You really are a jerk, you know that."

Sam turned, trying to hide his smile, earning a glare from his brother.

"Insulting me is not helping your case," Dean said setting the gun on the dresser.

"And what will?" she asked.

"Why were you in the woods?" Dean said.

"Fine," Page said folding her legs under her, deciding the truth was her only option. "I have no idea. The last thing I remember was sitting at my computer."

"Doing what?" Sam asked.

"Writing," she said.

"Writing _what_?" Dean asked.

"Fanfiction," she sighed.

"What's fanfiction?" Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes. "For what show?"

She laughed, throwing her arms up in the air. "This one."

"Huh?" Dean frowned.

"I don't understand," Sam said.

"Neither do I. One minute I'm writing dialogue for Sam Winchester, the next you're standing over me," she said shrugging.

"Dialogue? Sam, what is she talking about?" Dean asked, his hand going back to the gun.

"That's why you thought you were dreaming?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother.

"Yeah. You guys aren't real. You're characters on a TV show," she said.

"Right," Dean said. "The Adventures of Sam and Dean Winchester."

"Actually, it's called Supernatural."

"I'm not listening to anymore of this," Dean said reaching for her gun in hand.

"I can prove it," she said shrinking back.

"How exactly are you going to do that?" he asked still moving towards her.

"I know everything about you." She turned to Sam. "Both of you"

"Really?" Sam asked.

"I know what you do, and why."

"Anybody whose read our FBI files will know most of that," Sam said.

Page smiled and shook her head. "But not everything."

"I guess not," Dean said eyeing her suspiciously.

"How about what your dad told Dean the night the demon killed your mom?"

"That's it," Dean said grabbing her roughly by one arm and pointing the gun at her. "Who sent you? The demons. You can go back and tell them they can't have him. Do you here me?"

Page didn't move. She could only stare at the barrel of the gun, and hope he didn't shot her.

"Dean, stop it," Sam said pulling at Dean's shoulders.

Realizing she had to say something, some of her fear replaced by anger, she pulled at her arm. "I'm not working with the demons, you prick. Now let me go."

"She's a person, damn it," Sam said changing tactics and pulling on Page's arms.

"Doesn't mean she's not full of crap," Dean said releasing her, the gun falling to his side.

Page angrily pulled away from Sam and moved as far back on the bed as she could.

"What did he say?" Sam asked.

"What?" Page asked glaring at Dean.

"What did Dad say?" Sam asked looking from her to Dean.

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can, don't look back," Page said, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears.

"That doesn't mean anything," Dean said, verifying she had it right.

"Because _so_ many people know that," Page said sarcastically.

"I need some air," Dean said, grabbing his jacket.

"Dean," Sam called after him. The sound of the door shutting was his answer.

She eyed Sam leaning back against the headboard. "Why do _you_ believe me?"

"Weirder things have happened," Sam said sitting down on the bed.

She tipped her head toward him and smiled. "I guess with what you guys do, weird is kinda normal."

"Normal," Sam laughed.

"For lack of a better word," she shrugged. "I just wish I knew how I got here."

"Maybe we can figure that out. What exactly were you writing?"

"Just a story," she answered purposely being vague.

"Page," he said eyeing her.

"It was an old incantation," she said.

"What was it for?" he asked.

She sighed, looking away. She couldn't tell him, so she lied. "I don't know.""You don't know?" Sam asked pointedly.

"Well, it wasn't like I needed it to work or anything."

"You said it out loud."

"Yeah," Page said, and that was the truth. She always read what she wrote out loud, so she could catch any mistakes.

"That could be the answer."

"What?"

"Whatever the incantation was for, reading it out loud…"

"Sent me here," she said, feeling really stupid. This was not what was supposed to happen.

"We need to find that book," he leaned back, and their arms brushed, and it suddenly occurred to Page that she was sitting on a bed with Sam Winchester. She felt her cheeks grow hot and tried to casually pull away.

"You ok?" Sam asked scooting closer to her.

"Yeah," she stuttered out.

"I'm sorry," he said standing. "I didn't mean to…"

"No, wait," she said. "This is all just… a little strange. I've spent the last three years watching you on TV. Seeing you face to face is…"

"Bad?" he said smirking at her.

"No, definitely not bad," she said looking at the floor.

"Just little strange," he finished for her.

She laughed looking back up at him. "Try a lot strange."

"I guess it's a lot to take in," he said smiling at her.

A real smile, one she hadn't seen for most of season three. It almost made her tell him the truth. Almost. "So, why did the incantation bring me here, now, whatever."

"I don't know. Is there something you wanted to change?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked nonchalantly, hoping he couldn't see through her.

"Most incantations work on how a person is feeling or what they are thinking. I would guess that it sent you to this point because you wanted to change something."

She forgot how good he was at this, getting to the heart of the problem with such a small amount of information.

"But how do I know what to change?" she asked, knowing full well exactly what she wanted to change,

"Give me a timeline. We can figure it out from there."

So she started with the Pilot, moving from one episode to the next. She tried to skip parts, knowing it would bring back bad memories, but some she couldn't avoid. His eyes grew distant when she mentioned Devil's Trap and In My Time of Dying. Two episodes into the second season he started to pace. She had just finished with season two when the door opened. Dean took one look at Sam's stricken face and started toward her.

"What did you do?"

She cringed back away, smelling the whiskey on his breath. "Just talking."

"About what?" he asked stopping directly in front of her.

"What she said is true, Dean. She knows details, things nobody else could know," Sam said.

"Bullshit, Sam. She's filled your head with…"

"No, Dean, she knows details about hunts, only you and I were on. From the day you came to Stanford and got me, until three weeks ago, the Yellow Eyed Demon and Jake… "

Page schooled her expression, trying to calm her racing heart. _Three weeks!_ That gave her almost a whole year… No, she wasn't going there. This was ridiculous, stupid incantation, bringing _her _here. That was not what it was supposed to do.

Dean took a few steps back, running his hand over his face and through his hair. "This isn't possible."

"Like most of your life," Page mumbled.

"True," Dean said. "But how did she get here?"

"An incantation," Sam said at his brother's look. "She said it out loud."

"You did what?" Dean asked, than held his hands up. "No, don't tell me. You thought it wasn't real."

"It's a TV show, Dean. It isn't supposed to be real," Page said annoyed. Like she meant for this to happen.

"Stop," Sam said stepping between the two of them. "What's the name of the book?"

"What?" Page asked her eyes still fixed on Dean's angry face.

"The book, Page."

"I don't know," she stammered, trying to come up with a good lie.

"What?' both boys said.

"I have lots of book," she said trying for a smidgen of the truth. "After watching the show I tried to learn all I could about the supernatural. Rummage sales, antique book stores, garage sales, I collect them."

"Great," Dean said.

"It did have a unique picture on it. An angel burnt into the leather. At least it looked like an angel to me," she said hoping they would believe her.

"So what now, Einstein?" Dean asked.

"Research," he said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two days later Page was beginning to miss her solitary existence. Not that she wasn't enjoying herself, some of the time, but being around Sam and Dean twenty-four seven was not as much fun as she had imagined.

Her first problem came with the lying. She sucked at it. Keeping track of what she had told them and making sure she told them both the same thing. It was giving her a headache.

Her second problem was Dean. She should have known getting his trust would not be easy, but being handcuffed around the clock was a little much. Her wrist were turning red and having to ask every time she needed to use the bathroom was getting more and more embarrassing. He even left her, handcuffed to the steering wheel, with a threat of bodily harm if she hurt the car in any way, while he and Sam went inside a diner to eat.

It was on the third day of wearing the same clothes, and even disgusting herself with how gross she was, that Sam tossed a bag at her.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Just some stuff," Sam said giving Page a small smile.

"Sam," Dean said making a move toward the bag.

"She's stuck here for the time being, Dean. The least we can do is let her change her clothes," Sam said taking the handcuffs off and motioning toward the bathroom.

Page eyed Dean not moving.

"Fine, but one hint of anything…"

Page didn't listen to the rest. She grabbed the bag and hurried to the bathroom before he changed his mind, locking the door behind her.

"Hey," Dean called from the other side of the door. "No locking."

Grumbling to herself, she unlocked the door. "Happy?"

She got no response but hadn't been expecting one. Opening the bag, she dumped the contents onto the floor, and laughed. It was obvious Sam had been serious with Jess. He knew what to buy and had even come close to the sizes on the clothes.

Knowing her time was limited she brushed the knots out of her shoulder length brown hair before slipping her clothes off and jumping in the shower. The warm water felt good, and she lost herself, relaxing against the wall.

"_No! Stop!" The images flashed quickly and violently through her head, blood, pain, death._

She gasped her eyes snapping open, reaching for the wall, shaking from the memory.

"Damn it," she hissed, turning the water off and reaching for a towel. She quickly dried off and dressed in the used jeans and black ACDC t-shirt. Running the brush through her hair, she left it loose to dry. Sneaking a glance at her reflection, she frowned at the dark circles under her green eyes. She'd have to ask if they could stop and get her some make-up eventually. With one last furtive look in the mirror she exited the bathroom.

Dean met her at the door with the handcuffs. She sighed, but held her hands out. The next place Sam thought the book might be was over a days drive. Handcuffed in the backseat for twelve hours, was not Page's best day ever, considering she knew Dean's trick and could have gotten out of the handcuffs if she felt like it, but that would have only made him angry again.

They didn't stop until the sun was coming up.

"Give me your hands," Dean growled.

His expression didn't change as he slipped the handcuffs off, and Page eyed him suspiciously.

"This doesn't mean anything," he said getting out of the car and heading for the motel office.

"Thank you," Page whispered before Sam could follow his brother.

"I didn't…"

"Yes you did," Page said opening her door and stepping out. She stretched her hands above her head before sticking her hands in her pockets and finding what she was looking for. Smiling at Sam she headed for the office, passing Dean on the way in.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'd like a room, please," she said ignoring him.

"How…"

She pulled the credit card from her pocket, smiling at him. "Living in New York, I don't carry a purse when I shop, forget it in my pocket all the time."

"Single room?" the man behind the counter said taking the card from her.

"Yes," she said rubbing her wrists.

"Page."

"Dean," she said not looking at him.

"I'm sorry, but this card doesn't work," the man said handing it back to her.

"What?"

"Doesn't work. Got another way to pay?" the man asked looking bored.

"Run it again," she said trying to hand it back.

"I ran it three times," The man said looking over her shoulder at Dean. She felt a hand on her arm and had to suppress the urge to turn and kick him.

"Sorry, she's with us," Dean said physically pulling her out of the office.

"Let go," Page said, turning to glare at Dean.

"Face it, Sweetheart, for now, you're stuck with us, or did you have other ideas on how to pay for the room," Dean said smirking at her.

She didn't realize she'd hit him until she felt the twinge in her hand. She backed away as Dean advanced toward her, blood dripping from his chin.

"Dean," Sam said stepping in front of Page.

"Move, Sam," Dean growled.

"No," Sam said eyeing his brother.

Dean made a noise low in his throat, wiped at the blood on his chin, turned and stalked away.

"You shouldn't have done that," Sam said opening the trunk.

"He deserved it," she said rubbing her hand. She'd never hit anyone before. It hurt.

Sam shut the trunk, slinging both bags over his shoulder. "Probably, but making him angry isn't going to help."

She sighed, flipping the credit card over in her hand. "I guess in this place, I'm not real."

He slipped the card from her hand, and motioned for her to follow, placing a hand gently on the small of her back. "One way to find out."

Page steered clear of Dean once in the room, staying close to Sam as he pulled out the laptop.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked from his spot on the bed.

"Looking for me," Page said.

Dean glared at her and went back to flipping the channels on the TV.

Two hours later, over cheeseburgers and French fries, Page got her answer.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. Nothing, absolutely nothing, no birth certificate or social security number, nothing. Page Spencer did not exist.

"Not your fault," Page sighed, grabbing her bag and heading for the bathroom.

She sat heavily on the toilet willing the tears away. Getting all emotional was not going to help. Wiping a hand over her face, she took a deep breath and stood.

Done in record time, she was surprised when Dean didn't meet her at the door with the handcuffs. He did insist that she sleep on the rollaway against the farthest wall, and moved his bed against the door.

The rollaway was not comfortable, and Dean snored, loudly. She practically growled when Sam woke her.

"Breakfast," he said handing her a donut.

She sleepily eyed the clock. "It's ten o'clock at night."

"And," Dean said snagging the donut and popping the whole thing in his mouth.

She shook her head, grabbed her clothes and walked into the bathroom.

"Don't take all night, Princess," followed her through the door. She didn't care how cute he was, she was going to hurt him.

Sighing, she threw her hair up in a ponytail. Examining the amount of clothes Sam had bought her, she quickly changed into a dark blue t-shirt at least two sizes too big, but left her jeans on, having only three pairs and not knowing when they would do laundry next.

"Did you fall in?" Dean fussed as he banged on the door.

"Go away, or I'll take longer," she called to him.

"I'll leave you here," he called back.

"Bastard," she mumbled, not sure if he was serious and not willing to test him.

Sighing, she grabbed her stuff and stalked out of the bathroom to find just Dean in the room, zipping up his own bag.

"Here," he said tossing it at her.

She caught it and glared at him. "And what your legs are broken?"

"Fine," he said angrily snatching it back and tossing it on the closest bed.

Page finished packing her belongings and headed for the door.

"You could have asked," she said taking his bag off the bed and walking out the door.

Sam stood at the Impala's trunk and eyed her as she angrily tossed the bags in the back seat.

"Playing nice with Dean again," he said smiling.

"Yeah, he's such a peach," she grumbled, leaning back against the passenger door arms crossed.

"You get used to it," Sam said closing the trunk.

The flickering of the parking lot lights cut off Page's retort. Sam moved closer to her, his hand going to the pocket of his coat.

"That can't be good," Page mumbled.

"Sam," Dean called from the motel doorway.

"I know," Sam said, pushing Page back toward the room.

The air crackled with energy, and Page felt her feet leave the ground.

"No!" she heard in tandem before pain exploded along her right side. Groaning, she rolled to her back, scrambling to get her feet under her.

"Page, move!" The panic in Sam's voice made her look up, and she froze. The night manager stood between her and Sam, his eyes black. Worse yet, his hand was up, moving the closest car straight at her.

Spying a large dumpster, she ran, climbing to the top just as the car hit. She could do nothing but scream and hold on as the dumpster slid sideways until it hit the wall of the adjacent building, throwing her once again to the ground.

She was never so glad to here a gunshot.

"Dean!"

The scream was followed by a groan, and Page pulled herself up from behind the dumpster, arm wrapped around her injured side, and took in the site before her. Dean lay unmoving near the motel door, the gun next to him. The demon had turned its attention to Sam, a hand around his throat, feet off the ground.

"No," Page groaned moving toward them. The exorcism slipped from her mouth before she knew what she was doing.

The demon turned, dropping Sam. Its hand came up, and her feet left the ground again.

"Page," Sam gasped.

She hit the side of the building hard, but continued saying the exorcism, as the demon advanced toward her. His hand came up as she finish and the world went dark.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you sure?" Dean said.

"It was after her, not me," Sam said.

Reluctantly Page opened her eyes and found herself in the back of the Impala. "Great."

They both turned, Dean's attention wavering between her and the road.

"You ok?" Sam asked.

"Been better," she mumbled, gasping as pain shot up her side when she moved.

"Pull over," Sam said, practically crawling into the backseat.

"I'm fine, Sam," she said trying to breath through the pain.

"Right," Dean said, taking the next turn off and pulling into a closed gas station, the lights illuminating the inside of the car. Sam was by her side, car door open, before Dean had the car off.

"Let me see," Sam said moving her hands. She didn't protest as he raised her shirt.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said. A dark bruise was forming from her armpit to her hip.

"About sums it up," Page said. She groaned as Sam gently probed her side.

"Just bruised," he said pulling her shirt down.

"Anything else?" Dean asked.

"No, pretty much landed on my side, both times. You ok?" she asked suddenly remembering his unconscious state.

"I'm fine," he mimicked. "Have a hard head."

She eyed Sam, the question implied.

"I'm good," he said.

"Should be used to the whole chocking thing by now," Page said cringing as she tried to get comfortable.

"Don't do that," Dean said. "It's creepy. By the way, the exorcism, you just happen to have it memorized."

"I've used it a couple of times, got stuck in my head."

"By used, you mean…"

"No, not literally, just in my stories."

With a pat to his brother's back, Dean moved away, slipping back into the driver's seat.

"You sure you're ok?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, just sore," she said not looking at him. Truth be told, she was a bit freaked, but they had enough to worry about.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As freaked as she was about the demon attack, it rolled off Sam and Dean like an every day occurrence, and they were right back at figuring out a way to get her home. Lying to them was getting harder. Dean was already getting suspicious, and kept questioning her over and over about the book and the incantation. She knew eventually she was going to mess up her story, and Dean wouldn't be happy with her.

But it turned out Dean was the least of her problems. The demons kept coming.

"Stupid… backwoods… waist of time," she mumbled exiting the small building. The library was so behind in the times it had no computers, which meant no Internet. Spying Sam looking at her, she played up the frustration, kicking at a soda can and sending it skipping down the sidewalk.

"We're not giving up, Page. We'll find a way to get you home." The sincerity in his voice made her want to cry.

"How about some food?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Sounds good. We passed a café about two blocks back."

Her stomach growled at the mention of real food. "God, yes."

"The Winchester diet not working for you," he said playfully.

"A fixed budget doesn't allow for too much take out. My body's going into shock from all the grease and MSG," she laughed.

They found a table outside next to the street and ordered, a chicken salad for her and a tuna sandwich for him.

"So, any ideas on why the incantation sent you here?" She nearly chocked on her water, setting the glass down carefully, her hands beginning to shake.

"Not a clue," she said shrugging.

"I thought that maybe you… in some way…" Sam stumbled over his words making Page's smile grow.

"Spit it out, Sam," she chuckled.

"I thought maybe you could help with the deal," he said.

She was rescued from this line of questioning by their food arriving, than busied herself with fixing her salad. All the while, trying to think of a good response that didn't give anything away.

"Page," Sam said.

Sighing she laid her fork down. "Honestly, Sam, I don't know why I'm here. If I had to guess, I'd say, the demons being on a different level somehow sense that me being here is wrong."

"They know you're not supposed to be here," he said. "Plausible, but a little far fetched."

"Like ghost trucks," she smirked.

"Dean's right, that's creepy," he chuckled.

All humor left his face, his gaze falling on something behind her. She heard squealing tires, but before she could look, Sam was out of his seat and pulling her toward the building. A large red SUV smashed through railing and sent the table they had been sitting in flying. Arms around her, Sam turned her as they fell covering her as the SUV continued through the outside seating area, through the opposite railing and back onto the street.

"You ok?" Sam asked pulling off her, but keeping his hands on her arms.

"Yeah," she said, letting him help her to her feet. "Sam, the driver's eyes were black."

"What? Are you sure?" he asked. A crowd had started to gather, whispering and pointing. The manager came out asking if any one was hurt.

"Sam, we gottta go," she said taking his hand. Sirens could be heard in the distance.

Sam reassured the manager they were fine, and they slipped through the crowd quickly mingling with the other pedestrians.

Page gasped when he touched the top of her arm.

"You said you were ok," he said trying to pull her to a stop.

"It's nothing, Sam. We need to get back to the motel," she said.

They were silent the rest of the walk back. Sam took her straight back into the bathroom before explaining to Dean what had happened.

"You're sure," Dean said watching Page intently. She sat on the toilet in the bathroom, Sam washing the gravel out of the road rash on her right arm.

"For the hundredth time, yes I'm sure," she hissed as Sam poured antiseptic over her arm.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled.

"Sam," Dean said leaning against the doorframe.

"I didn't see the driver, Dean," Sam said wrapping Pages arm in gauze and tapping it in place.

"Two demons in two week," Dean said. "Are you sure they weren't after you, Sam?"

Sam shrugged, closing the first aid kit. "I don't know."

"Great," Dean said. "I guess we can look forward to more visitors."

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"I thought you said an angel was burnt into the cover," Dean said looking at the picture of the book Sam had pulled up on his laptop.

"No, I said I thought it looked like an angel. The color's right, and it has something burnt into the cover," Page said trying to cover her mistake as Dean eyed her suspiciously.

"That's three hundred miles away," Sam said flipping the computer to mapquest.

"Great, we'll head out in the morning," Dean said grabbing his coat. "I'll be back late."

With that, he was gone. Page hadn't missed the look that had passed between the brothers. The, I know what your doing and I don't like it but I'm not going to say anything, look. Sam had that look on his face a lot lately. Dean either didn't see or ignore it, which made Page angry. She was starting to believe that maybe she was sent here as some sort of punishment. Destined to watch the whole ugly mess play out and not able to stop it.

Pushing those thoughts back, she gave Sam a small smile before slipping into the bathroom to change her clothes.

He was in the same spot when she came out, in front of the computer. Sighing, she said her goodnights and slipped under the covers.

"_No! Stop! Dean!" The screams echoed through the room. She reached for the door, but the light stopped her, blinding her to all but the screams. Sam's screams, Dean's screams, and her own all mixed together._

She shot up in the bed. Panting, she pushed her sweaty hair out of her face and found her hands shaking.

"Page?" Sam was sitting on the bed, his hand reaching for hers. She couldn't look at him, not with those images so fresh in her mind.

"I'm ok. Just a nightmare," she said pulling her legs to her chest. "Demons chasing me."

"You screamed my name and Dean's," Sam said.

She shrugged. "All I remember are demons."

She rolled away not looking at him. Knowing she wouldn't go back to sleep, but not wanting to talk. It wasn't her first nightmare, and she was sure it wouldn't be her last.

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Page groaned softly. They were in a library after all. Sam was busy typing away at the computer, and Dean had stalked off to who knows where an hour earlier. Page couldn't blame him. Researching was not Dean's thing.

Standing she walked in between the stacks, running her finger over the books as she went. The library was small, but contained some interesting finds. It had peaked Sam's interesting, which in turn irritated Dean.

"Find what you're looking for?" the librarian asked, making Page jump.

"No, not yet. Thank you," Page said turning her attention back to the books.

"Maybe I can help," she said moving closer to Page.

"No, that's ok. I think we got it covered," she said backing away from the small woman.

"No," she said grabbing Page's arm in a much stronger grip than she should have had. "Let me help you."

"Sam!" she screamed as the librarian dragged her toward the stairs. She kicked and fought the hold on her arm, but she couldn't stop her forward motion.

"You aren't supposed to be here," the librarian said, her eyes going black. With one strong shove, she sent Page toppling down the stairs.

Throwing her arms out, Page tried to stop her decent, pain shooting through first her back than her head. Then blackness overtook her.

The pain was the first thing that registered in her mind. Her whole body hurt, but the elephants stampeding in her head were the worst. She jumped as hands touched her, eyes flying open, trying to push back away from the presents in front of her.

"Page!"

Sam's voice stopped her panic, and he slowly came into focus kneeling in front of her. She groaned and leaned against him.

"Can you stand? We need to leave," he whispered, his hand carefully touching the small of her back.

She nodded, letting him help her to her feet. The room tilted, and she fell against him. "Sam, I don't think I can…"

"Lean against me," he said slipping his arm around her. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

Page managed to stay on her feet long enough to reach the Impala. Sam helped her into the backseat and pulled out his phone.

"Where are you?" Sam paused, listening. "We'll meet you there. No, everything's not alright."

He dropped heavily into the driver's seat and started the engine. Page let her eyes slip closed, relaxing into the seat.

"Page, open your eyes," Sam said his hand on the side of her face.

She groaned, but opened her eyes.

"I need you to stay awake," he said concern lacing his words.

She fixed her eyes on him. Watching the twitch of the muscles in his jaw, and down his neck, the curve of his hands around the steering wheel. Her mind lost focus, staring at a particular scar on his wrist, wondering if it was the one he broke. She couldn't remember. She yelped in surprise as arms came around her and picked her up. Turning her head, she found Dean staring at her.

"What happened?" he asked too loudly in Page's opinion.

"Elephants," Page whispered.

"What?" Dean eyed his brother. "Another demon."

"Yeah, threw her down the stairs," Sam said.

She could hear them, but her focus was lost again. Warmth wrapped around her, making her relax into the feel of leather and the smell of gun oil.

"No, Page, keep your eyes open," Sam's voice floated into the warmth she was lost in, and she groaned as she was jostled. Lazily, she batted at the hands that grabbed at her face. One hand moved to the back of her head, and the pain spiked bringing tears to her eyes.

"Owe!" she growled her eyes coming open. "Stop."

"Her head is bleeding," Dean said from somewhere next to her.

"What?" she mumbled, still unable to really focus.

"Page," Sam said his face in front of hers again. "Hey, you in there."

"Funny," she mumbled.

"This is going to hurt," Dean said and the pain encompassed everything and then there was nothing.

The warmth was back again, but the smell was different, peppermint and coffee. She slowly opened her eyes, focusing first on the arms wrapped around her then on Dean lying on the bed across from her.

"Sleeping Beauty's awake," he said looking from his brother to her.

"Page?" Sam said, his hands rubbing her arms gently.

"Yeah," she croaked, rolling her head slightly so she could look up at him.

"Anymore elephants?" he asked.

"Just a couple," she said, pushing against him. His arms loosened, and she sat up, testing her equilibrium.

"You good?" he asked, his arms up prepared to help if she needed it.

"Yeah," she said her hand going to her forehead.

"These will help," Dean said, handing her two Tylenol and a glass of water.

"Thanks," she said.

"No doubt now that the demons are after you," Dean said sitting on the bed across from her.

"I guess," she said setting the water on the bedside table. "The librarian?"

"She's fine, Page. The demon was just there to hurt you, didn't stick around after it threw you down the stairs."

"Now what?" Page asked.

"We'll just have to be more careful," Dean said lying back on the bed. "One of us will have to stay with you until we figure this out."

"Wonderful," she said letting her self relax back into the bed next to Sam.

"Wait," she heard Sam say and the bed shifted. "Open your eyes for a minute."

"Sam," she groaned.

"Let me check," he said his hand on her face again.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

He smiled and pulled back, making her roll her eyes. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Yeah, pupils are fine." She felt the bed shift again and his warmth pressed against her.

She wouldn't admit it to him, but it made her feel safe.

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Having the Winchesters as her personal bodyguards was good and bad. Sam being the good, and Dean being the bad. Not that Dean was anything but civil, lately, but when Sam wasn't around, she felt uncomfortable, like at any moment he could decide she was a threat and… well, anyway, Dean kinda scared her.

But she was incredibly comfortable around Sam and found herself telling him about her life in New York, her boring yet expensive studio apartment, her crazy cat Moxy, who loved chasing the mice around the laundry room, and her somewhat exciting job at the magazine.

"An editor," Sam said as they walked down the street to yet another bookstore.

"Well, not really. I'm one of the editors' assistants," she smiled looking down at her feet. "You know, I'm the one they scream at for coffee, and yell at when they don't have enough copies of something."

"But you like it?" he asked opening the door for her.

"It's a step towards where I want to be, and I get to learn from the best, even if I don't get credit for most of what I do," she said shrugging.

She looked up to find him smiling at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said starting down the first isle of books.

"Really, what?" she asked following him.

All she got was another smile. Rolling her eyes she moved past him.

"Page," he warned when she turned the corner.

"For God sake, I'm three feet away from you," she whined.

"You were sitting across from me when the car almost hit you," he said stepping closer to her.

"Fine," she grumbled. "This is a little ridiculous, you know that, right?"

"Just trying to keep you safe."

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They both stood as she did making her groan. "I'm going to the bathroom, so unless you want to draw that kind of attention, I'm going by myself."

"I can stand outside the door and wait for you," Sam said.

"You can see the bathroom door from here," she said getting angry. "Just stay put."

She was gone for no more than five minutes, but found Sam standing outside the bathroom door when she opened it.

"Sam," she said annoyed.

"You were gone…"

"Shut up," she said stalking back to the table.

"I told you she'd only get mad," Dean said receiving a glare for his troubles.

"This is stupid," she said pushing her food away.

"Page…"

Dean threw some money on the table and stood. "Let's not talk about this here."

Page followed him to the Impala, leaning against the side as Dean opened the trunk. "Give me a gun."

"Excuse me," Dean said eyeing her skeptically.

"Or some sort of weapon. As much as I enjoy your company," she said eyeing Sam. "There are certain places were I have to be alone."

Sam had the good graces to look embarrassed. Dean on the other hand was shaking his head.

"I don't think so."

"I promise not to shot you, Dean," she said smiling sweetly.

"Funny," he said without humor. "The answer is still no."

"But you can have this," Sam said handing her a flask of holy water.

"Great. I feel so much safer now."

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"Sam, what are we doing?" Page asked, walking a step behind Sam into the empty field behind their motel.

"Just follow me," he said.

Page was about to protest again when he stopped and turned to face her. She eyed him, confused by the amused expression on her face. Suddenly arms came around her from behind.

"What are you going to do now?" Dean asked, his hot breath ghosting along her ear.

"I can think of one thing, but walking could be difficult for you if I do," she said kicking her leg back, but stopping just before making contact.

He laughed. "That's one option."

"Let me show you another," Sam said walking toward her. "Depending upon your attackers height, throwing your head back can cause a broken nose or a split lip. If your attacker is too tall for that, you can throw him."

"Excuse me? How do I throw someone who is bigger than me?" Page asked.

"Dean."

"She has to learn," Dean said without much enthusiasm.

"Step back with your right leg in between Deans legs, and at the same time, throw your upper body forward. Dean's weight will pull him over your shoulder."

Page did as she was told thinking it wouldn't work, and was surprised to find Dean in front of her on his back. "Awesome."

"Yeah, wonderful," Dean said getting to his feet.

The afternoon went on like that, with Dean being the attacker, and Sam the teacher. By the time the sun went down, Page was sore and sweaty, and Dean was in a very bad mood.

Back in the motel room, Page headed straight for the bathroom.

"Don't use all the hot water," Dean called after her.

Sighing, she turned the water on and looked in the mirror. A small bruise was forming under her right eye where she had gone right instead of left, and Dean's fist had connected hard. He'd apologized, and considering how many times she had actually hit him, some of which were definitely on purpose, she wasn't holding it against him.

She let herself soak in the heat of the shower for as long as she thought safe, before quickly toweling off and pulling on sweats and a t-shirt.

"All yours," she said, moving quickly out of the way as Dean shot past her, slamming the door behind him.

"Teaching me those things was not Dean's idea, was it?" Page asked.

"How'd you guess?" Sam said from his spot in front of the computer, sneaking glances at the bathroom door.

"He knows," she said sitting down on her bed.

"Knows what?" Sam asked turning to face her.

"That you're looking."

He quickly turned away. "How would you know?"

"Because I know everything," she said leaning back on her hands. It was the closest she'd come to revealing the truth.

He still wouldn't look at her. "He hasn't said anything."

"This is Dean we're talking about," Page laughed.

He laughed softly and closed the computer just as Dean exited the bathroom.

Dean stopped in the doorway, eyeing the pair. "I miss something?"

Laughter was his answer.

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The next attack, of course, happened on her way to the bathroom. Dean was never going to let her forget that. Stuck in the hallway between a dead end and the demon, Page suppressed the urge to scream. Getting someone else hurt because she called attention to her attacker was not something she was willing to do.

The knife in the man's hand swiped down at her, barely giving her enough timed to duck and roll under his arm. She turned hoping the moves Sam had showed her would work, and kicked him hard in the back of his left leg. He cried out, falling to his knee, giving Page the opening she needed to hit him over the head with the flask the holy water had been in. Just as he was falling, face down to the ground, Sam and Dean ran into the hallway.

"Page?" Sam asked looking from her to the man on the ground.

"Got it covered guys," she said handing Dean the now dented flask. "But holy water just made him mad."

"You sure you're ok?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, but we should leave before he wakes up or someone sees."

"Come on," Dean said gruffly, before storming off.

"Did I do something wrong?" Page asked following Sam out of the diner.

"No, just proved me right, which tends to piss him off," Sam said smiling at her.

"Proved you right? About what?"

"That you could take care of yourself," he said, opening the car door for her.

"I could have told you that," she said sliding into the backseat.

Dean fumed in the front seat, instantly turning the music on and ending all conversation.

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Dean's mood did not improve, and Page was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to trust her. Not that she was giving him any reason to, but with her life literally in their hands, she was hoping for more than contempt.

Sam must have noticed too, because he left her alone with Dean less and less until Page felt a little claustrophobic. Her feelings for Sam were growing, and she was having a hard time hiding them. It didn't help, that Sam was a very touchy feeling guy. It wasn't uncommon for him to slip his arm around her shoulders or touch her hand while he talked, each contact making her stomach lurch and her breath hitch. She didn't know what was going to happen, but getting that close to either of them was not a good idea.

She wouldn't say she was comfortable with the situation, but she had grown content, accepting the fact that she was stuck. She should have known it wouldn't last.

"I'll do it," she said grabbing Sam's bag and heading for the door.

"Page," Sam said.

"Sam, I'm just going to the car," Page said rolling her eyes. "You'll be within screaming distance."

She didn't wait for an answer. The Impala was just out the door, unlocked as they packed to leave, again. Forcing herself not to look behind her, she threw the bags in the backseat and quickly turned to go back inside.

"This is a waste of time, Sam. She's not telling us something, or she's out and out lying. I'm starting to think this book doesn't exist at all," Dean said angrily stuffing his clothes into his bag. Page stood by the door, just out of sight.

"Why would she lie?" Sam asked.

"That's a good question. Why don't we ask her," Dean said eyeing his brother.

"You mean why don't I ask her."

"Whatever," Dean said grabbing his bag and moving toward the door.

Page quickly ran to the Impala, sliding into the backseat just as Dean exited the room. She was angry with herself for letting it go this far. She should have left after the first week, before they spent so much time 'helping' her. Now, she felt like she owed them an explanation, an explanation she couldn't give them. If they knew the truth they'd want her to help, and she wasn't sure she could do that. She'd had more than one fantasy about the Winchesters, but saving _them_ had never crossed her mind. She'd have to leave, and the sooner the better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Becoming Real Chapter 2**

Page spent the day avoiding Sam's questions. She knew she was just reinforcing what Dean had told him, but she didn't want to lie anymore. Avoidance was the only option, at least until she could find a chance to leave.

The next afternoon, when Sam asked her if she wanted to go with for food she politely declined. After checking the salt lines and telling her four times not to answer the door, they left. It took all her strength to watch them walk out the door and not say anything.

After scribbling a pathetic note, telling them she was fine, but not to follow her, she quickly pulled her duffel out and stuffed what little belongings she had into it. She double-checked to make sure they were really gone and walked out the door.

She didn't go far. The next town over was an easy walk. It was getting dark by the time she saw the first building, a bar, how fitting. Hoping for a profitable game of pool, she made her way in. By the time she was finished she had eight hundred dollars in her pocket. Who would have thought cheating was so easy. Smiling to herself she turned to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" a gruff voice said.

Page turned to find the fat drunk she had just cheated out of four hundred dollars stumbling towards her. "Think I've tapped everyone out."

"Why you little bitch," he said grabbing for her arms.

"Now is that any way to speak to a lady," came from behind her. She tried to hide her surprise when Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"Don't see any ladies, just a cheat," he slurred.

"Is that so?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

"He's just pissed I won all his money," Page said unable to control her anger.

"That wasn't very smart," Dean whispered in her ear.

Impatient, the man took a swing in their direction. Being he was barely staying upright to begin with, the swing missed by about a foot and the man continued around and down.

"Are you done having fun now?" Dean asked. Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the bar.

"Let go," Page said angrily pulling away.

"What is this?" he asked pointing at her bag. "Just going to leave?"

"What do you care?" she asked turning away.

"I care, because Sam freaked when we found the room empty. Thought something had happened to you."

Page turned to glare at him. "I left a note."

"Right, and with all the demon activity we were reassured by that," Dean said angrily.

"It's just better if I leave now," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Because I know too much and you can't help me," she said finally looking at him, and barely suppressing the urge to laugh. She could see the struggle in his face. He was stuck between helping her for Sam and hurting her for Sam.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't stand there and act like you don't know what I mean," she said.

"You heard us," he said that look coming back into his eyes. He really didn't trust her.

"It doesn't matter," she said turning away. She wasn't surprised this time, when the hand grabbed her and turned her back around. He was angry now, that fire that protecting Sam brought out in him.

"The truth," he said through gritted teeth.

"You know as well as I do that the truth isn't always a good thing, Dean. Just let me go," she said desperately trying not to cry.

"You know I can't do that," he said pushing her back against the car.

He was right. Sam had given her his trust, and Dean wasn't about to let her run away without a reason. Sighing, she looked him in the eye, knowing what she was going to tell him would change everything. "The deal, I know how it ends."

"How could you…" he suddenly got it. She saw it in his face. "You saw me die."

"And so did he," she whispered the tears falling at the memory.

"Why didn't you say something?" he asked angrily shaking her.

"Because it was just a story, Dean. It wasn't supposed to be real," she said trying to push him off.

"What did you do?" he asked his eyes hard.

"I was trying to keep you from going to hell, to give Sam a way to save you. That's what the incantation was supposed to do, instead it sent _me_ here."

"You were trying to send Sam back in time to save me."

"To save both of you, Dean. I've seen it. The end. He won't survive it, and not just you dieing, but the guilt of not being able to save you. It'll eat at him until there's nothing of _him_ left. I'm sure the writers will have some crazy way to bring you back, but it won't change the fact that you died, that he failed."

"It's not his fault," Dean whispered.

"And since when has fault ever mattered to a Winchester," she said bitterly.

"You know what's going to happen?"

She looked away, not wanting him to see the emotions that single statement brought out in her.

"Then stop it before it happens," he said.

She shook her head. "How do you know if changing it won't make things worse."

"How could it be worse?" he asked loosening his hold on her.

"Do you really want me to answer that," she said.

"Sam," he muttered letting her go.

"Yeah. Me changing things could get him killed or get both of you killed." She wiped at the tears cursing the weakness.

He opened the car door and motioned for her to get in. "Sam needs to be part of this conversation too."

They rode in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Page was angry with herself. She'd let Dean bully her into revealing too much, and he wasn't just going to let her leave now.

"You coming," Dean said exiting the car.

She sighed deeply. This was going to end badly for all of them.

"Sam, you here?" Dean called as he opened the door.

"Did you…" he started coming out of the bathroom. Page averted her eyes, afraid of what she would see in his face. She was surprised when strong arms pulled her close, the warmth of his body seeping into hers.

"Sam," Dean said over her shoulder. "We have some things to talk about."

Sam pulled back, but kept his hands on her arms. Page caught a glimpse of his eyes, those damn eyes. She hated those eyes. It made what she was going to tell him that much harder. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her.

"It's ok, Page."

"Oh, Sam. It is so far from ok," she said. "There's no way to get me home."

"What?" he asked.

"I picked the incantation," she whispered.

"You what?" Sam asked his hands falling from her arms. "Why would you do that?"

"Because it wasn't for me. It was for you," she said closing her eyes.

"I don't understand," Sam said.

"Three years, Sam, not two. Why didn't you let me finish?" She knew the answer, but had to ask.

She opened her eyes to find Sam looking over her shoulder at Dean, face full of emotion, like he couldn't decide how he felt.

"I thought… I hoped… it was a mistake," he whispered. "It wasn't a mistake."

"No," she said shaking her head. "I know how this ends."

"Why didn't you tell us? Why the lying?" Sam asked his voice and his eyes both going hard.

Page shook her head. "In the beginning, I was afraid."

"Afraid?" Dean asked.

"Yes, afraid, Dean," she said rounding on him. "One minute I'm in my apartment the next I'm in the middle of a field trying to talk a fictional character out of shooting me, or did you forget that part."

"But you kept up the lie," Sam said. "The book…"

"I didn't mean for it to go this far," she said walking to the window. "I don't understand how this happened. Even if I read the incantation out loud, why did it send me here? For that matter, how did it send me here? This place isn't real."

"It's real to you," Sam said. "We're real to you."

"So."

"When you read the incantation, what were you thinking," Sam said softly.

Suddenly, it all fit together in her head. "I'm such an idiot."

"No…" Sam started.

"Yes, I am. I didn't think about what I was doing. Not really," she said.

"Why is this a bad thing?" Dean asked.

"For one, the incantation was a one way ticket," she said, the quiver in her voice betraying her emotions.

"Page," Sam said trying to touch her again, but she quickly moved to the other side of the room.

"I write about this kind of thing, I don't live it," she said her anger growing. "I can't do this."

"The incantation wouldn't have sent you here if you weren't meant to do something," Dean said.

"That doesn't mean I should," she said looking down at her hands.

"Then tell us, and we'll decide what to do," Dean said crossing his arms.

"It's not that simple," she said.

"What's not simple about it?" Dean asked.

"Non of this is simple, Dean. How do I know what to change? What if I do it wrong? What if…?" She couldn't say it, the thought that she'd been dreading for weeks.

"You're scared," Sam said softly.

Page shook her head, laughing without humor. "Scared? I'm terrified."

Sitting down heavily on the bed, she put her hands over her face. She was done. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. She just wanted to go home.

"Page…" Dean started.

"All you had to do was let me leave," she said angrily. She stood, hoping to seek refuge from the questions in the bathroom, but Dean stepped in her way.

"Run away? Is that really what you want to do?" Dean asked, rage rolling off him in waves.

"Yes!" She screamed pushing him away. "This was not supposed to happen. I'm not supposed to save anyone. You do the saving."

"Is that what this is about?" Dean asked. "You don't even want to try because you're afraid of what might happen."

"No, Dean. I'm afraid of what I know _will_ happen," she said angry at the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Sam's hands were on her shoulders pulling her away from Dean. "Page stop."

She pushed him away, wanting them to understand without having to tell them. "The end is worse then anything you can imagine."

"I doubt that," Dean said.

Anger boiled up in her, and she couldn't stop the words that tumbled from her mouth. "Oh really, you have a lot of experience with hellhounds, Dean."

She didn't miss Sam's intake of breath or his eyes going wide, but in her anger she choose to ignore it.

"That's what I remember, Dean. It's what I see every time I close my eyes."

"Stop it," Sam demanded.

"He wanted to know," she said, giving little thought to what she was doing.

Dean's eyes were hard, but full of regret.

"Sam was there, stuck to a wall by the very same demon who held your contract," she moved closer to Dean with every word until she was in his face. "He screamed for them to stop but they tore at you until you died chocking on your own blood."

Strong arms grabbed her around her middle, pulling her away from Dean and pushing her against the wall. She wasn't sure who was more surprised by Sam's actions, her or Dean, who stood, eyes wide, as Sam pinned her struggling arms against the wall, the look on his face menacing.

"Sam," Dean said.

"Shut up, Dean," he growled.

"Sam, please," Page whimpered pulling at her hands. She'd lost control of her anger, gone too far, but she hadn't expected such a reaction from Sam. She should have. Knowing how the deal had affected him. He'd been willing to follow Ruby in his desperation. Swallowing down her fear, she looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"You're a lair. I'm not letting Dean die," he said, his grip on her hands growing tighter.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, her fear increasing with each word.

"Dean was right. The demons sent you, to torment me, to make me give up, but I will save him," he said, a hand slipping to her throat, chocking her.

"Sammy, let her go," Dean said, and Pages frightened eyes found his.

"Sam," she managed to squeak out. "Please."

His eyes changed suddenly, growing wide. He released her, and she slid down the wall, her wobbly legs unable to hold her up. He staggered back, until he bumped into the bed, his eyes not leaving her.

"I…" he stammered. She was alarmed by the look on his face but didn't have the energy to get up.

"Dean, don't let him…" Dean caught him before he could run. Pushing him back onto the bed.

Sam's tear streaked face met Dean's and Page thought the world would end right there. The amount of guilt in the looks both gave each other, one for living the other for dieing, it didn't seem right, it didn't seem fair, and Page knew what she had to do. She wasn't sure she was strong enough for this fight, but she wasn't running away.

"This isn't your fault, Sam," Dean said.

"Right, it's the yellow eyed demons fault, it's Jake's fault, damn it's even Mom's fault," Sam said bitterly.

"What?" Dean asked eyeing his brother.

Sam just shook his head.

"None of that's important, Sam," Page said unsteadily getting to her feet.

Sam's eyes found hers, and the depth of his sadness strengthened her resolve.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't apologize. I let my anger get the better of me too," she said making her way to the chair by the door and sitting down.

"Page…" She glared at Dean making him stop.

Taking a deep breath she tried to find the right words so they would understand. "I'm not a hunter. I don't know how to use a gun, even with what you've taught me, I'd be woefully inadequate in a fight, and my knowledge of the supernatural is limited to what I've learned on the show and in researching topics for my fanfiction."

"We're not asking you to fight," Dean said.

"The demons aren't asking, Dean. I've been thrown into the mix whether I like it or not."

"Then help us," Sam said.

"I'm starting to think I don't have much of a choice," she said.

"Of course you do," Dean said.

"No," she said shaking her head. "As much as I want to run and hide, pretend this isn't happening, I can't. I may not be a hunter, but I can't stand back and watch it happen either. Not after being with you for this long."

"We tend to grow on you," Dean said making her smile.

"That's one way to put it," she said, and Dean returned the smile.

"So, how do we stop it?" Sam asked, wiping the smile from Pages face.

"Well, I have an idea," she said.

"Let us have it," Dean said leaning forward.

"I'm not telling you everything. I have a feeling, the more I change the more likely something bad will happen. I will tell you, I know who holds the contract. I also know someone who can help, but you're going to have to trust me." The last part was aimed at Dean.

"That depends upon what you tell us," he said.

"How is this any different from what we did before?" Sam asked.

"I'm hoping that knowing who the demon is will keep it from getting that far," she said.

"Why? When did we find out before?" Dean asked.

Page smiled sadly. "The second to last episode. Didn't give you much time."

"Sounds like it," Dean said standing. "Well, I'll order us some food. Can't talk on an empty stomach."

"When is your stomach ever empty, Dean?" Page asked.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'm confused," Dean said around a mouthful of pizza.

Page dropped her head to the table. This was not going well.

"Breath," Sam said squeezing her shoulder.

"Ok, from the beginning. The contract is not held by the crossroads demon. She has a boss. Her name is Lillith."

"Who for some reason has it bad for Sam," Dean said.

"Yes," Page said sitting back in her chair.

"Why?"

"I don't know," she lied.

"Page," Dean warned.

Page sighed. She didn't want to get into this. "She wants to be leader, and she needs Sam out of the way."

"Don't you feel special," Dean said snagging another beer.

"Lucky me," he mumbled.

"Guys," Page growled, rubbing her forehead.

"Sorry," Sam said sheepishly.

"Bobby still has the colt, yes?" Page asked.

"How…? Never mind," Dean said. "Yes, Bobby has the colt, but there are no bullets left, so what…"

"I know someone who can fix that," she said eyeing Sam. "You haven't told him about Ruby yet, have you?"

Sam stood and walked away from the table.

"Dude," Dean said, one word filled with so much meaning.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I was trying to find the right way…"

"He got mad anyway, Sam, so just tell him," Page sighed.

"Someone please tell me who Ruby is," Dean demanded.

"The chick from Nebraska, with the knife," Sam explained.

"Oh," Dean said. "And?"

"She's a demon," Page said when Sam didn't answer.

The reaction was as Page expected. His was out of his chair, knocking it over, storming toward his brother. "What!! And this was something you thought I didn't need to know?"

"Dean," Page growled.

He turned and glared at her. "What else don't I know?"

"Sam," Page said nodding toward Dean.

"She said she could get you out of the deal," Sam said eyes on the floor.

"Oh, come on, Sam…"

"Enough, ok," Page said standing. "I didn't like this conversation the first time I heard it. She was lying. She can't save Dean. She just wanted you to play along."

"Why?" Sam asked that lost puppy look on his face.

"Because she's a demon," Dean said.

"Pretty much," Page said. "She has other motives, but they aren't important. Just know she isn't someone to trust."

"But we can use her," Dean said.

"Yeah, fixing the colt is vital to my plan. We just need to keep it away from Bella."

"Whose Bella?" they both asked.

"Yeah, that's a bit harder to explain. Bella is a con artist who uses her knowledge of the supernatural to swindle people out of their money."

"She swindled us?" Sam asked.

"No, not really. She stole it," Page said yawning.

Dean eyed her that look on his face again. Getting him to trust her was going to be an uphill battle.

"Yeah, well, Bobby was in a coma and then the guy was after Dean and…" she stopped spying their confused faces. "Let's just say you guys were busy, and she took advantage."

"Well, first order of business is to call Bobby," Dean said picking up his phone.

"Dean, it's two in the morning," Page said heading to her bed.

"Ok," he said putting the phone down. "I'll call him in the morning."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bobby thinks were nuts, but will keep a look out for a demon who will help him fix the colt," Dean said the next morning as Page came out of the bathroom.

"Well, he shots her, but that's before she fixes the colt," Page said running a brush through her wet hair.

"Ok, then," Dean said.

"Dean," Sam called as he burst through the motel door.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean asked.

"Did you know Dad had a storage unit?" Sam asked.

Page groaned, before she could stop herself. She was afraid this was going to happen.

Dean eyed her suspiciously. "Page."

She shook her head and turned away. "Go. Nobody should get hurt because you're trying to help me."

"We can't…" Sam started.

"I'll salt the windows and doors," she said but neither moved. "Go, already."

"Page, what…?"

"It's nothing, just, be careful."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Three very long days later, Page was not surprised to have a very pissed off Dean storming into the room.

"Be careful? That was the best you could do?" Dean said glaring at her.

"Dean, I'm fine." Sam said closing the door behind him.

"She shot you Sam," Dean growled.

"She grazed me. The bullet barely penetrated the skin and didn't go into the muscle," he said sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"And those two stupid goons?" Dean asked.

"You took care of them, right, Batman," she smirked.

"Oh, God," he said sitting. "That was part of the curse."

"Sure it was," she said digging the first aid kit out.

Dean stood and headed for the door.

"Dean," Page called after him.

"You broke him, you fix him," he said slamming the door behind him.

"Sorry," Page said. "Can I have a look?"

Sam groaned, but managed to pull his coat and button up shirt off without any problems. The t-shirt Page cut off, leaving him bare from the waist up. She held her breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

Sam had been right. The wound was shallow, the bullet lying right under the skin.

"This is going to hurt," she warned before placing a piece of gauze soaked in antiseptic over the wound. Sam hissed but remained still.

"You knew this was going to happen?" Sam asked.

"Yes, but I also knew it was only a flesh wound. I wouldn't let anything serious happen to either of you. You know that, right?" she asked pushing at the lump that was the bullet.

His eyes met hers and he smiled. "Yeah, I do."

The smile left his face, his hand coming to her neck and the fading bruises. She put her hand over his. "It's ok, Sam."

"I didn't mean…"

"I know. Really, it's ok," she said squeezing his hand and letting go. His hand ghosted down her neck before returning to his lap.

She went back to examining the lump, pushing it this way and that.

He let out a sharp cry as she pushed hard, slipping the bullet out of the wound. "There, all done."

"Owe," he growled.

"Let me just tape this up," she said applying a bandage with a liberal amount of antiseptic cream on it.

His eyes hadn't left her, and it was making her uncomfortable. When she turned he grabbed her arm and pulled her down.

"Sam," she got out before his lips were on hers. It was sinful how much she enjoyed it. Groaning into his mouth his hand on the back of her head not letting her pull away. Melting into him, she resisted the urge to touch. When he finally pulled back she was panting and flushed.

"Page," he groaned leaning his forehead against hers.

"We shouldn't," she said pulling away from him.

She turned not looking at him, knowing those eyes would be her downfall. Moving to her own bed, she climbed in and pulled the covers up to her chin. She heard Sam sigh and a few minutes later the lights went off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Here," Dean said handing Sam some cash. "You know what I want."

"Yeah, yeah" Sam said leaning back into the car. He gave Page a sideways look and closed the door.

"Ok, what did you do to Sam?" Dean asked turning and glaring at her.

Page shrugged.

"He hasn't said more than two words to you today. You guys have a fight or something?"

"Or something," she mumble.

"Page," Dean said.

"It's not a big deal," she said turning to face him, surprised to find him looking intently at her.

"When Sam stops talking, it is big deal," Dean said.

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Tuff," he said the glint back in his eyes.

She sighed too damn tired to argue with him. "Dean, I don't want to be another disappointment in his life."

The passenger door opened ending the conversation.

Sam remained quiet and distant. Dean's solution was to keep up a steady stream of music. Page found herself relaxing into the seat, the purr of the Impala soothing her to sleep.

_The room spun, and she felt sick. Her attention was pulled to the double doors. As she drew closer the desperate screams echoed from the room._

"_No! Stop!"_

_She heard Dean's pained screams and ran for the open door. Lillith/Ruby stood in the doorway, a wicked smile on her face._

_"You're too late. He's mine." The light flashed…_

_And she was back behind the door again. Silence punctuated the room. It scared her more than the screams._

_"Dean," she said running into the room. It was empty accept for a little girl._

_"Hello." The singsong voice was laced with menace and sent chills through Page, and she backed slowly toward the door. "Fear. Good."_

_Before Page could run, she found herself stuck to the wall, the little girl grinning evilly at her._

_"You can't save him. It doesn't matter what you do. He's mine. They both are."_

_Pain seared through Page's head, as different images flashed through her mind. Dean as he looked that night, bloody, eyes unfocused, Sam cradling him, eyes full of tears. Another spike of pain brought on different images, Dean holding a bloody Sam, and worse both bloody, nobody to morn them. The images flashed over and over as the pain increased. Blood, pain, loss, and despair repeating until she thought her head might explode._

"NO!" she screamed desperately pushing at the hands on her arms, pushing past the body in front of her, out of the car, stumbling blindly to get away. Arms came around her, stopping her forward motion and pulling her and who ever had a hold of her to the ground. She continued to fight, fear making her blind.

"Page!" The concern in Sam's voice broke through the panic in her mind.

"Sam?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah, you with us?" ghosted along her neck.

Panting, she leaned back against him, his arms going around her. "Nightmare."

"That was more than a nightmare," Dean said, kneeling in front of her.

"Lillith," Page whispered.

"What?" Dean's eyes went from her to his brother.

"What did she do?" Sam asked.

"At first it was like my other nightmares. That night…" she shook her head.

"But…" Dean continued for her.

"She showed me what could happen," she whispered.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked pulling her tighter against him.

"You dieing, or both of you dieing."

"Page…" Dean started.

"I know, Dean. She's trying to scare me," she sighed.

"It was a trick, Page. Nobody's going to die," Sam said, and she really wished she could believe him.

Reluctantly, she pushed away from Sam and staggered to her feet. Her arms missed where he'd been touching her. Sighing, she moved slowly back to the car, but not before catching the look the guys shared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, Bobby," Sam said shutting the trunk.

"Sam," Bobby said his eyes on Page. "Picking up strays."

She rolled her eyes, taking her bag from Sam. "You're all a bit irritating, you know."

"I'm not sure how much of this I believe," he said, and Page spied the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants.

"Yeah, well, just be nice to the demon who comes to fix the colt, and I won' t say I told you so," she said walking past him into the house.

"Certainly got a mouth on her," followed her into the house, making her laugh.

"My mother always said it was going to get me into trouble," she mumbled placing her bag down and sitting in the first vacant seat she found. She was tired, but too afraid to close her eyes.

"There's two extra beds upstairs…"

"I'm fine," Page said rubbing her forehead. "Could use some coffee, though."

"Made a fresh pot this morning. Help yourself."

Page made her way into the kitchen, ignoring the chattering coming from the other room. Pouring a large cup of coffee, she sifted through the cabinets until she came up with some sugar and added a large spoonful along with a nice helping of cream. Sitting in one of the empty dining room chairs, she let the hot liquid warm her from the inside, and her body began to relax.

"_No! Stop! Dean!" The screams echoed through the room, but looking down, she noticed the colt in her hand. Maybe she could stop it this time. The doors opened spilling waves of light toward her, but it wasn't Lillith who emerged but Sam, eyes black, face full of contempt._

_"You can't save them." It was Sam's voice, but different._

_"Who are you?"_

_"I'm Sam."_

_"Who are you?" _

_The room filled with his laughter…_

The coffee cup crashed to the ground, sending hot coffee splashing against her legs. She jumped up, knocking the chair over.

Sam was the first to appear in the doorway, and without meaning to she backed away. His brow furrowed, and he stopped letting Dean and Bobby enter the room in front of him.

"Page," Dean said stepping in front of her.

"I'm ok." The trembling in her voice gave away her fear. Closing her eyes briefly she tried to steady her hands as she bent to pick up the broken pieces.

"I've got that," Bobby said pulling her up and pushing her toward the doorway where Sam stood.

Feeling a cold chill creep up her, she pushed past Sam, who followed her into the living room. "Page."

"It was just a dream, Sam," her voice sounded strange to her, muffled and far away.

"Then why did it look like you were afraid of me," he said.

She closed her eyes, seeing his face, the black eyes, the smile, and she felt arms around her, before she realized she was falling.

"Page? Page!" she heard Sam call, but she couldn't find the strength to answer. "Dean!"

Everything faded into the background, and she floated, not unconscious, but not aware either. Slowly it started coming back. Strong arms were around her, and her head was against something warm. Voices drifted in, still far away, but becoming clearer.

"You didn't see her face when I walked into the room, Dean. She was afraid of me."

Not wanting to hear anymore, Page tried to talk, but a small groan was all she got out.

"Page," came from behind her.

Slowly she cracked her eyes open. "Sam?"

"Be still," Dean growled when she tried to turn toward the voice. She was on the couch, in Sam's lap, her head resting on his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around her under a heavy blanket.

"What?" she was a little confused.

"You had a nightmare. Dozed off in the kitchen," Bobby said from the other side of the couch.

She nodded, not wanting to remember.

"Must have been some nightmare," Bobby said.

"You could say that," she whispered, pushing herself up and wrapping the blanket around her. "Cold."

"Shock does that to you," Dean said.

"What?" Her brain was still lagging behind, and it was hard to follow what they were saying.

"I'm not surprised, with all that's happened, it was bound to catch up to you, eventually," Dean said, his eyes going to his brother.

"What was in your nightmare, Page?" Sam asked.

"It was just Lillith trying to scare me again," she said lying down on the opposite end of the couch. Catching Sam's hurt expression as she closed her eyes.

_"You can't save him!" the voice echoed in her head, the same images flashing in her mind. Blood, pain, despair…_

"Page, wake up!" The hands on her face were warm, shaking her slightly. She groaned trying to pull away. "That's it. Wake up."

Opening her eyes she found Sam in front of her, his lip bleeding. "Sam?"

"Yeah, you awake?"

She nodded, still trying to catch her breath. "Did I do that?"

"You have a hard head, but I'm ok. Are you?" he said wiping the blood off his lip with the paper towel Dean handed him.

"Yeah," she said stifling a yawn. "Why is she doing this?"

"Because you can help us," Dean said.

"And she's having fun," Sam said.

"Fun, great," Page said propping herself up. I tickle at her nose brought her hand up, which came back wet with blood. Dean quickly handed her a paper towel as well.

"That's new," Dean mumbled.

"Kinda makes sense though," Page said.

"How?" Sam asked.

"If she's messing with my head…"

"Now that's a scary thought," Dean said eyeing his brother.

A shot from outside interrupted them.

"Bobby!" Dean called, running from the room.

Page managed to get to her feet, and followed Sam who ran after his brother.

"Page, go back inside," Sam said.

"No, if this is…"

"Ruby I presume," she heard Dean say, and stepped up her pace. All they needed was for Dean to shot her too.

"It's a party I see," Ruby sneered.

Page rolled her eyes and leaned against the closest tree.

"Who's that?" Ruby asked.

"It doesn't matter," Dean said eyeing her. "Can you fix the colt or not?"

"Can if you ask nicely," she said frowning at Page. "She's not supposed to be here."

"Tell us something we don't know," Sam said crossing his arms.

"She's not real," Ruby said walking toward Page.

Page dropped the paper towel pretty sure her nose had stopped bleeding, and glared at the pretty girl walking toward her. "Speak for yourself, Sweetheart."

Ruby stopped in front of her, looking at her strangely.

"Ruby, the colt," Dean said.

"Yeah, Ruby, make yourself useful," Page said continuing to glare at her. She was not prepared for the fist that connected with her jaw. She held her hand up when Sam and Dean both moved to retaliate. "The bitch was just making a point."

"And the point was made," Ruby said backing up. "You shouldn't listen to her."

"Why's that?" Bobby asked.

"She'll lie."

Sam laughed without humor. "And you don't?"

"What?"

"You can't help Dean," he said.

"I never said I could." Page gritted her teeth and wished she had the strength to hurt her.

"She's doing it again, Sam. To get what she wants, she'll tell you anything," Page said moving closer to Sam.

"You can save Dean, Sam," Ruby said, glaring at Page.

"Shut up," Page said, flask of holy water now in her hand. "Just fix the colt and leave. I know what you want, and you're not going to get it. Not if I have anything to say about it."

"Page," Dean said a warning in his tone.

"Shut up, Dean," Page said, not having the patience for an argument.

"I'll fix the colt," Ruby said backing away from Page. "But this isn't over."

"I have no doubt," Page said before letting Sam lead her back to the house.

True to her word, Ruby fixed the colt. The instant she left, Dean caught Page alone and demanded answers.

"Don't," he said when she turned away.

"She wants Sam. What more do you need to know?" Page asked annoyed that Ruby had brought the subject up.

"Why would be nice," Dean said sarcastically.

"I'm not telling you," she said turning and glaring at him. "If we kill Lillith, it won't matter."

"It matters to me," Dean said grabbing her arm so she couldn't turn away.

"You can bully me all you want Dean, I'm not telling you," she said pulling away.

"Then how am I supposed to protect him?" Dean asked.

"You live," she said angrily turning and leaving the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So what's in Ohio again?" Dean asked. They had left Bobby's that morning with a promise to call when they found Lillith.

"Demons," Page sighed. She was tired. Every time she closed her eyes the nightmares would come.

"How many?" Sam asked.

"Two. Oh, and a guy named Richie," she said offhandedly.

"Richie?"

"He knows Dean, talks funny dresses funnier."

"Ah, Richie," Dean said. "You'll like him."

"Not if we don't get there fast enough," Page said.

Dean eyed her and stepped on the gas.

Page groaned as they entered the motel room. She'd forgotten about the mirrors on the ceiling and the magic finger boxes. Dean just grinned.

She spent most of the next two days ignoring her surroundings, focusing on looking for signs of Lillith, but found nothing. Since fixing the colt, the demon activity around them had all but disappeared, which didn't settle well with Page. They were planning something, and with the memory of Jus in Bello, Page wanted them ready for anything.

Casey and the priest were lured into a trap and taken care of, the right way this time. Neither made it, but Page was happy they at least tried.

They left that night, after burning the bodies, not stopping until they were out of the state.

Page sat on one of the beds flipping through the slim selections, finally turning the TV off. Dean shook his head and grabbed his coat.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked.

"There's a bar…" he started.

Sam shook his head and waved him off. "Just be quiet when you come in, ok?"

"It's like having a wife," Dean muttered slipping out the door.

"Did he just call me his wife?" Sam asked making Page laugh.

"I think he did," she said smiling at him. "What are you doing?"

"Looking," he said.

"Why?" she asked moving up behind him.

"Because we don't know if killing Lillith will break the deal. I want to be sure," he said not taking his eyes off the computer.

"We can't be sure, Sam," she said softly, sitting down next to him.

The taping of the keys stopped, and he sighed. "I can try."

"Letting the guilt control you isn't going to help Dean," she said.

"I can't help it," he said smiling sadly. "I let myself get caught by the Yellow Eyed Demon, and I let Jake kill me."

"Sam," Page said, both sad and angry. "I wish I could say something that would make this better."

"You don't have to say anything," he said.

"Sam," she said afraid to look at him. His hand snuck up and somehow ended up on her cheek.

"Page." His voice ghosted over her. Who knew your own name could be so erotic. She shivered, her eyes going to his lips. She wanted to kiss him but knew she shouldn't.

"Sam," she said pulling back and standing. "This is a bad idea."

"Why?" he asked, his hand on her hip, pulling her back against him.

"We don't know what's going to happen. After killing Lillith, the incantation may send me home," she said trying not to shiver under his touch.

With their height difference her head fell right under his chin. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. "But we don't know that. Do you really want me to stop touching you?"

"That's so unfair," she whined.

"Stop thinking so much," he said.

"But…" she started, but lost her train of thought when his mouth latched onto the back of her neck working his way back up to her ear.

"Want you," he whispered making her shiver.

"Such a bad idea," she groaned turning in his arms. For an instant she just looked, lost in his eyes. Then his lips met hers, and he kissed like he fought, all in, holding nothing back, lips, teeth and tongue.

Hands on her hips pulling her against him, turning with her, still kissing, he set her up on the dresser, rubbing in all right places. She threw her head back, the moan coming from deep inside her, feeling him smile against her neck. Nipping and sucking his way down, hands under her shirt, urging her arms up shirt off.

Her head was spinning, and he was kissing her again. Moaning into his mouth as he slipped her bra off, and he touched her, callused fingers over soft skin.

It was everything and not enough. She pulled at his shirt until he got the idea and slipped it over his head. Marveling at his body, she touched and tasted, worshiping all of him until he pulled her back up for another breathtaking kiss.

Pulling her against him, arms around his neck, legs around his waist, he carried her to the bed. Leaning back she watched as he stripped the rest of his clothes off, enjoying each and every moment. He smiled when he found her still dressed and preceded to remove the rest of her clothes.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, kissing her cheek and nipping at her chin.

She blushed, not used to such things, and he noticed, looking deep into her eyes.

"You are," he whispered taking her lips again and steeling her breath.

Her smiled dissolved into a groan as his hands roamed her body touching her. When they slipped between her legs, she almost came undone. Nobody had touched her like that before. She didn't know it could feel so good.

"Sam," she moaned. "Close, so close."

"Open your eyes," he said, and she couldn't resist him. She watched as his mouth replaced his hands, and she slipped over the edge. Her body arched as wave after wave took her higher than she ever thought possible.

When her mind came back she realized his mouth was still on her, as was his hand. Groaning she tried to pull away, but gradually the burning need in her started building again until she was begging for more, for him not to stop. He kissed his way back up her body and found her lips. She moaned at the feel of him between her legs. He reached for her hips, pulling her up as he pushed his hips down.

She cried out at the sudden feel of him inside her, and he stopped.

"I'm sorry." He groaned into her hair. He raised his head, his eyes searching for her response.

She could see the strain in his face as he tried to stay still. Bringing her hands to his cheeks she smiled and kissed him. "Just surprised me."

He smiled back and tilted his hips sending shockwaves through her body. Groaning she kept her hands on his face, her eyes on his, as he continued to move inside her.

"I can't… need…" he said, his hand coming to rest next to her head.

"I won't break, Sam," she said pulling him in for another kiss. He thrust harder, becoming more erratic groaning into her mouth.

"Gonna… gonna…" he moaned.

"Yes. Please," Page begged, tilting her hips higher, trying to get him deeper. The wave crashed into her hard. She arched her back wanting it to last, the fire burning hot and deep, pulling nonsense words from her mouth until all she felt was Sam and the rest of the world meant nothing.

"Page," Sam groaned thrusting one last time and shuddered. Warm air tickled her neck as his head came down next to hers. She moved her hands to the back of his head, running it through his sweat damp hair. His body moved sideways, slipping from her, and his arms wrapped around her pulling her close. Slowly his breathing evened out, and Page pulled the blanket over him as she climbed out of the bed.

Slipping his shirt over her head, she quietly made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Emotions like she had never felt before consumed her, making her legs weak. She slipped down onto the floor against the bathtub, pulling her legs to her chest. The tears came then, burning behind her eyes and choking her.

"Page?" She couldn't find the strength to answer him. She desperately wiped at the tears on her face. He couldn't know. "I'm coming in."

She hid her face, tucking her chin against her knees. She stiffened at the hand that touched her shoulder, and it pulled away. She felt him sit next to her, the heat from his body close to hers.

"Did I… I didn't…" The innocence in his voice made her look up, and she wished she hadn't. He had slipped on some shorts but still had that tousled sexy look that made her want to forget what was in her head and just kiss him. He didn't understand, and she didn't want him to. This was the Sam she wanted to remember. Before he needed to change.

"You didn't do anything, Sam. It's not…" she stopped looking away.

"Then what?" he asked, his hand coming back to her shoulder.

"I can't," she said trying to pull away, his hands found her though, not letting her go.

"Page," he pleaded. God, this was so unfair.

"No, Sam," she said.

"Tell me," he said cupping her face in his hands.

"You don't want to know," she whispered. "The deal… the desperation…"

The understanding shown in his face, and he asked the question she didn't want to answer. "What do I become?"

Her hand went to his bare chest, and she closed her eyes.

"Page," he said, and the memories exploded behind her eyes. The way he looked when he shot the priest, the girl, and the crossroads demon, his quick decision to kill Gordon, and the blood on his hands afterwards. The scenes played out in her head until she got to the end, Lillith, the little girl, Ruby, and Dean.

"Sam," she managed to choke out, and he curled his arms around her, tucking her head against his chest.

"Please tell me," Sam whispered.

She raised her head, knowing she couldn't lie anymore. "It changed you, the need to protect Dean, to find a way to save him. You did things you wouldn't have done before."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Killing," she whispered.

"People you mean," he said his brow furrowed. "I wouldn't…"

"To protect Dean, to save Dean. The closer the year came, the more you would do, and it didn't matter, because he died anyway."

"There's more to it than that. What aren't you telling me?" he asked, his eyes turning distant.

"Sam," she said looking away.

"You've told me this much. Tell me all of it." His hands went to her arms, keeping her from moving.

"No," she said shaking her head.

"Why?"

"Because it'll change things," she said.

"And how do you know it's not something you should change?" he asked.

She eyed him, wanting to erase the guarded look on his face. Feeling exposed and slightly afraid, Page couldn't suppress the shudder that ran up her body. His arms loosened, and she stood moving quickly away from him.

"This was a bad idea," she whispered picking up her clothes.

"Page," he pleaded. She gasped as his hands found her waist again and dropped her clothes. He spun her around his hands staying on her hips. His eyes were still guarded, but there was something else there too.

"If the plan works, Lillith will be dead and Dean will be safe. None of what I remember will happen," she said leaning into him.

"Then why are you so afraid?" he asked.

"Because I know what can happen, and as much as I want to believe I was sent here to help, what if I make things worse? What if both of you die?"

"Nobody's going to die," he said with such conviction, she pulled back to look at him. The look on his face was pure Sam, the fire in his eyes, the determined set of his jaw. He leaned into the hand she placed on his cheek. Her eyes burned, but she ignored the tears.

"I'm scared, Sam."

He took her hand, and he kissed her gently. She wanted to melt into him, forget why she was there and just feel him. For one night, she let herself, knowing it would still be there in the morning.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

If Dean caught on to what had happened, he didn't say anything, but his mood definitely improved. Page was still trying to figure that one out.

"What does this sound like to you?" Dean said handing Sam the paper.

"You're kidding," Sam said after skimming the page. "A poltergeist?"

"Really?" Page asked leaning over Sam to read.

"Page," Dean said, eyebrows raised.

"Swear Dean, I have no idea," she said grabbing Sam's hand when he wouldn't stop moving the paper. "Be still."

"Fine, but you aren't coming with," Dean said grabbing his bag and sorting through the weapons.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said smiling.

"Dean," Sam said looking from her to his brother.

"I'll be fine Sam," she said and kissed his cheek.

Dean wrinkled his nose and turned away. "Get a move on, Sammy."

Between the salt, the holy water and the gun Sam snuck her, Page felt safe as she shut the door behind them. That night and the following day went by slowly, but other than a little boredom, there were no problems. She should have known better.

Her first clue that something was up, the lights flickering. Grabbing the phone Sam had given her she started dialing, but stopped.

It could just be the lights flickering.

Putting the phone down, she palmed the flask of holy water and moved toward the door, jumping back at the loud knock. Chastising herself for being such a girl, she moved the curtain back and groaned.

"What do you want?" she growled flinging the door open.

Ruby didn't answer. She stood, arms crossed looking at the salt in front of the door.

"Right, I don't think so. I feel much safer with you on that side," Page said leaning against the door.

"Be that way," Ruby said her eyes going black.

"I have better things to do with my time, Ruby."

If the world were fair, that would have been the end of it, but in her haste to close the door, Page's foot caught the edge of the salt line, and that was all Ruby needed.

Ruby's hand was around her throat, the door slamming behind her before the mistake had registered in Page's mind.

"Do you really think you can come here and change things," Ruby hissed.

"Thought about it," Page chocked out, cringing when her head hit the wall.

"Look at you. Pathetic really." Ruby let her go, and she crumpled to the ground.

Page let her think she had the upper hand waiting for the opening she needed. Ruby turned and Page struck, swiping her leg out, dropping Ruby to the floor. In one fluid motion Page unscrewed the flask of holy water, dumped the entire container on Ruby, and grabbed the gun from the dresser.

A hand grabbed her arm before she could bring the gun up. "Think you can beat me."

"I may not be a demon, but I have one thing going for me you don't," Page said trying to calm her racing heart.

"What would that be?" Ruby sneered.

"The Winchesters taught me how to fight," Page said bringing her knee up hard into Ruby's midsection, and when she doubled over, into her face. "And I really hate you."

Wrenching her arm free, she brought the gun down on the back of Ruby's head.

Luckily, the guys had left so quickly, they left behind a lot of the books Page had taken out of the trunk, not the she needed them. She could probably draw a devil's trap in her sleep, but between the headache, now pounding behind her eyes and the fear of Ruby waking before she was finished made it hard to concentrate.

She had just finished tying Ruby's hands to the chair when she started to stir. Backing out of the devil's trap quickly, Page made herself comfortable on the closest bed.

"Untie me," Ruby growled.

"Yeah, right," she said turning the TV on.

"What the…" Page turned, having missed the sound of the door opening.

"Oh, hey, hunt go ok?" she asked ignoring the obvious question.

"Page," Sam said moving toward Ruby.

"Before you do that you might want to look a these," Page said flipping her hair away from her neck, making the finger shaped bruises visible.

Sam's expression turned lethal, Dean's hand on his arm stopping him from doing something stupid.

"Why?" Sam asked.

Ruby didn't answer, pulling harder on the ropes holding her.

"Doesn't like the idea of me changing things," Page said standing.

"And you managed to get her in there," Dean said his gaze shifting from Page to Ruby and back to Page.

"Yeah," Page said smiling. "Bitch is lucky I didn't shot her."

"Page," Sam cringed, backing away from Dean.

"You gave her a gun," Dean said rounding on him.

"Hey, still tied up over here," Ruby said.

"Shut up," all three answered.

"You can have it back, if it's that big a deal," Page said holding it out grip first.

Dean eyed the gun. "Did he at least show you how to use it?"

"Um…" Page said looking over his shoulder at Sam.

"Sam," Dean said taking the gun from her. "You can have it back after he shows you how to shot."

He moved quickly into the devil's trap and untied Ruby. Kneeling down he broke the hold on her. "Go, but know I won't stop him next time."

Ruby eyed the group. "You should watch who you put your faith in, Sam. Could come back and bite you in the ass."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Page jumped at the sound of the gunshot. Considering the gun was in her hand that was bad. Groaning at the beer bottle still sitting on the fence, she aimed again.

"Don't try so hard," Sam said from his spot behind her.

"Right, because then I might actually hit something," she said pulling the trigger. The beer bottle laughed at her, or maybe that was Sam. "Ok, I give up."

"Page," Sam said slipping a hand around her shoulders, so she couldn't move.

"Come on, Sam. We've been at this for a week. All I've managed to do is waist your ammo."

He slipped the gun from her hand, placing it on the hood of the Impala.

"I thought I needed to practice," she sighed, his lips finding her neck.

"What you need is to relax," he said slipping his hand into her pants.

"Sam,' she moaned. "Someone might see."

"We're miles from the road," he whispered into her ear.

His fingers found her center, opening her, teasing her, making her feel so good. She arched into his touch, his arm around her back the only thing keeping her upright, as her body began to tremble.

"Sam," she moaned breathlessly against his shoulder.

"So beautiful," he said, sucking on the skin below her ear.

Two long fingers plunged inside of her, and her body convulsed from the shock, waves racing up her back, exploding in her brain. She couldn't hold back the scream as she clutched at his arm, coming completely undone, until she slumped against him, boneless and sated.

"Wow," she whispered, giggling into his chest.

He gently pulled his hand free, picked the gun up and handed it to her.

Her hand ghosted over the front of his pants. "What about you?"

"You can have me, if you hit the bottle," he said nipping at her jaw and pulling away.

"Been around your brother too long," she mumbled.

"Probably," he said turning her to face the fence. "Like I showed you."

Two hours later she wanted to point the gun at him. He kept teasing, a hand here a kiss there. She was so turned on she could barely see the bottle. Finally though she managed to barely hit the edge, and it feel to the ground.

Tossing the gun aside, she pushed him against the hood, and kissed him hard.

"Page," he moaned into her mouth as she squeezed him through his jeans.

"My turn," she growled, reaching into his pants.

His head fell back, and Page sucked and licked at his exposed neck. Circling his length with her hand, she worked him slow, making him groan.

"Page," he begged.

She brought her hand up to his cheek. "Open your eyes."

His lust filled gaze found hers, and she smiled. Picking up the pace, she held his gaze, dragging her tongue along his jaw line. His breath hitched, and she squeezed harder and moved her hand faster.

"Sam," she moaned when he stopped her hand, pulling it from his pants and reversed their position, setting her fully on the hood.

"Want you," he moaned into her mouth, kissing her senseless. She was only half out of her pants when he thrust into her.

"Yes," her scream echoed through the field.

"Need to feel you. So good," Sam said kissing and biting his way down her neck.

Page pulled his head back up and found his mouth, all teeth and tongue, desperate in her need for release.

"Please, Sam. Please," she groaned into his neck as he thrust harder and faster. She hooked her legs around his waist, tilting her hips, slipping him in that much farther hitting that spot over and over sending trimmers through out her body, until her brain short-circuited, leaving her clutching at his shoulders as he groaned and his body shuddered against hers.

Resting his forehead against hers, he ran is hand through her sweaty hair.

She stared at him, wishing it could be like this forever, but knowing eventually it would end.

"What?" he said, groaning as he slipped from her body. He rolled to the side, letting her bend and pull her pants back up, all the while never taking his eyes off her. "Page."

"Just wishing I could freeze time," she whispered.

He kissed her forehead and pulled her to him. "Yeah, I know."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The minute they walked in the door Page knew something was up. Dean looked way too serious.

"I think I found her," he said over the map he was holding.

"Where?" Page asked, moving around him so she could see the map.

"The middle of Nebraska."

"Can you be a little more specific," Sam asked.

"No, actually," he said giving his brother a dark look. "There's nothing there. It's farmland. The closest town is twenty miles away."

"That can't be a coincidence," Page said.

"Great place to lure us into a trap," Sam said.

"We still have to go," Dean said folding the map.

"I know. I'll call Bobby."

Thirty minutes later, they were in the car, tension thick in the air. Page still wasn't sure about this. Not the killing Lillith part. That she was sure about. Her participation however, that she was still having issues with.

Bobby's car was parked on the road where they had planned to meet.

"You ready?" Bobby asked as they gathered weapons from the trunk. His focus was on her.

"No," she said honestly. "But I'm not sitting in the car waiting for you."

Nothing more was said about it. Sam handed her the gun she'd been target shooting with along with an extra clip. She didn't have the heart to tell him, she didn't think she could really shot anyone. Hurting a demon was one thing, the person they just happened to be in, Page didn't think she could do it.

"Take this," Dean said handing her a wicked looking dagger. She looked closer at it then, back at Dean.

"How?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Little bitch was useful."

Page shook her head not hiding her smirk. "That she was."

Sam eyed his brother, handing Page a flask of holy water. "I don't want to know, do I?"

"No," Dean said shaking his head.

Page tried to ignore the shake of her hands as she sheathed the dagger and slipped it on her belt, resting it on the small of her back under her jacket. The gun went into the waistband of her pants and the holy water in her pocket. The guys made this look a lot easier.

Walking in between Sam and Dean, they made their way down the long overgrown road, rounding the corner a house emerged.

To say it was falling apart was an understatement. Grass grew through the planks of the porch, what planks were left that is. The door hung off one hinge and fell off when Dean pushed on it. Sam led them into a large living area, the furniture long gone, dust and cobwebs the only décor. Sun shown through the broken windows highlighting the filth in the room.

"It's a little too quite," Page said, her hand resting on the flask of holy water.

"Smart girl." They all turned toward the voice. Standing in the doorway were three men, all dressed in different uniforms, but what caught Pages attention, their eyes were black.

"Page," Sam said pushing her behind him and toward the stairs at the far end of the room. "Go."

Page didn't have to be told twice. Taking the stairs two at a time, she heard someone behind her and didn't look back to see who it was. Ducking into the first room, she found herself in large bedroom also devoid of furniture.

The door flew open behind her, and she staggered back against the force. The man standing in the doorway was ordinary, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. The black eyes revealed the demon, and she took another step back.

"The others we're not supposed to kill until she gets here. You on the other hand… I'm going to enjoy this," he said smiling evilly.

"Oh really," she said pulling the flask from her pocket and opening it.

"You got something for me," he taunted.

Her answer was to fling as much holy water at him as she could. It burned and sizzled, giving her the opportunity to slip past him. She was almost to the door when the bastard grabbed her hair. She screamed as tears came to her eyes. Without thought, her hand went to the knife. She turned not expecting him to pull her towards him. Her eyes widened as the knife plunged into his chest. Lights flashed through him, surprised expression slipping from his face as the demon was destroyed. Page swallowed down the urge to puke as the knife slid out, making a squelching noise she didn't think she'd ever forget. She could only stare as he fell, eyes lifeless now that the demon was gone.

A hand on her shoulder had her spinning, knife still held out in front of her.

"Whoa," Dean said backing up a step hands out in front of him. "Down girl."

Page turned back to the body on the floor. "I didn't… He grabbed me… I… "

"The first one is always the hardest," Dean said, his hand going back to her shoulder.

She turned to stare at him. "But I didn't mean to."

"He was hurting you," Dean said softly like he was talking to a child. This, more than the words penetrated Page's unfocused mind.

"Don't do that," she said, pushing his hand off.

"Whatever," he said turning back to the door. Page followed close behind as they made their way back downstairs. At the bottom he motioned for her to stop as he continued forward toward the double doors at the far end of the room. Page held her breath, trying not to look at the bodies lying on the floor.

"NO!"

She looked up quickly to find herself alone, the double doors slamming shut. Closing her eyes she willed back the memories. This wasn't even the same house, she told herself. Tentatively, she moved toward the doors, knife in hand. She leaned close to the doors, listening, but not hearing a thing.

"Hello."

Her heart hammered in her chest as she turned. Ruby stood behind her, but she was different, and Page suddenly wished she had stayed in the car. It was stupid of her to think she could change anything. It was going to happen anyway, except they were all going to die.

"You brought them to me. Thank you," the singsong voice grated out. Page backed up until she hit the door, and it fell open. Page lost her footing and fell back, knife skittering along the floor.

"Page!"

She wanted to turn, to reassure them that everything was going to be fine, but her focus was on the demon advancing toward her. She cried out as a hand pulled her up by her arm, twisting it until she heard a resounding crack.

"No!"

"Now, now," Lillith said spinning Page around to face Sam. "This wouldn't be any fun if I didn't get to play first."

Page got her first look at the macabre sight before her. Sam and Dean were suspended in midair, arms out, legs dangling a few feet off the ground. They looked like puppets in a sick and twisted display. Sam's head was bleeding and the sleeve of his jacket was ripped. Dean looked a little dazed but unharmed, his face full of anger as her fought against the hold on him.

"You bitch," Dean growled.

Page tried to hold back the tears, but the pressure on her arm was excruciating. She knew her eyes were begging them to do something, and she hated herself for it.

She was prepared for it, death I mean. The minute she had figured out Lillith was in Ruby she assumed it was inevitable, but she had forgotten one thing, or one person that is.

The gunfire was deafening in the small room. The body behind her jerked in time with the shots, and she was falling, cringing as she landed on her broken arm. She heard muffled curses as Sam and Dean were released and also fell to the floor.

Turning quickly to her back holding her arm against her chest, Page saw Bobby in the doorway gun in hand, but it wasn't the colt, which meant… Bobby went flying backwards, hitting the wall hard. Looking desperately around the room Page spotted the knife in the corner, but before she could move, arms were grabbing her.

"You did this. Changing things, making it wrong," Ruby's face was contorted in rage.

"No, I'm making it right," Page said before white-hot pain consumed her, blanking out her vision.

"Page!" Sam's agonizing scream filled the room.

"Sam, no!"

Page felt herself falling, but the pain was gone, replaced by a deep bone chilling cold. With way too much effort, she opened her eyes and found herself looking into the vacant depths of Ruby's eyes, as the last spark of death consumed the demon.

"Page." Arms were around her, pulling her up. Sam's tear streaked face appeared above her. "Just hang on."

"It's ok, Sam. This is what's supposed to happen," she whispered.

"No," he choked out.

"The demon is gone. You're safe. That's what I was supposed to do."

She felt the blood pooling in the back of her throat, and her hand fisted in his shirt as she struggled to breath.

"Page." The sadness in his voice made her wish it didn't have to end.

She coughed and sputtered, blood pouring from her mouth. She took one last pitiful breath and didn't fight the approaching darkness.

The last thing she heard was a desperate plea for her not to leave.

THE END

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** So, what do you think? I told you, my brain just wouldn't stop. I finally just had to finish it and get it off

my computer. Should I continue? Page could be dead or… well that's for me to know, and you to beg for. –snickers-


End file.
